


You Were A Thief

by missbeizy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, M/M, Multi, Phone Sex, Poly!verse, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poly!verse featuring: early Will/Darren feels/smut, a Chris/Darren/Will threesome.  Warnings for: double penetration.  Guest appearance: a cat with a sweet tooth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were A Thief

See, the thing is, Brian hates Darren, and not because of the way that he can't come around him without sneezing and his eyes watering and his sinuses swelling shut. No, like, he hates him. The first time that Darren met Brian Chris had asked him to go to the pantry to get another six pack of beer and Brian had slid in behind him and found him in the dark and latched onto his naked ankle like a jaguar in the goddamned jungle. He'd tasted blood and from that moment on never looked back.

Will learns early on that this drives Darren crazy. It's the saddest thing ever, watching Darren constantly show up with cat toys stuffed into his bag or pocket, how he waits for Chris to be out of the room before revealing his latest attempt at cat affection bribery, and how every time no matter what he's brought he ends up with scratches or tiny claw-sized holes in his clothes because Brian is just not impressed. He's tried everything, apparently—toys, food, catnip (Brian is way too straight-edged for drugs). None of it works.

"Maybe I should bring him a lady friend," he sighs, one day, when he and Will have the house to themselves. He scrunches up his face. "Or a boy friend. Is Brian gay? Can cats be gay?" He frowns. "Maybe he's biphobic." He sighs dramatically and flops back onto the carpet of Will and Chris' bedroom, spreading himself out in all directions. "I just don't get why this fucking cat hates me so much."

They've only been seeing each other a few months now, but the battle for Brian's love has been going on for much longer than that, and Will can't help but feel bad. Brian has adored Will since day one; he isn't the cuddliest cat in the world but he's not averse to affection when he's in the mood and you have his approval. Will wonders what he'd done to get that, while Darren has been trying and failing for years.

Will decides that distraction tactics are in order, so he kneels over Darren's hips and sits down, stifling a pleased noise at the warm surprise that flickers over Darren's expression as he does so.

It's still kind of new, this physicality between them, though the desire for it isn't. Will has never really confessed this completely to Chris—he intends to, once the dust settles—but he's been attracted to Darren since the first time they met. He knows that they have very little in common in terms of up-bringing and professional interests—aside from, you know, being entertainers and geeks in general—but there is an excited, jumpy, eager to please ball of positivity inside of Will that recognizes the same inside of Darren, and that ball wants to jump on top of Darren's and play.

Will pouts. "I'm sorry Brian is mean to you." He's genuinely distressed by this; he's always been superstitious, sees it as a bad omen, and Darren's dejected face on top of that is upsetting him to an irrational degree. He wants to fix it.

Darren smiles, gazing up at Will with affection in his eyes. "Hi."

"Hi," Will replies.

"It's just a cat, Will," Darren says, chest deflating. "I'm like forty percent fucking with you because I love when you give me those wide eyes."

"The other sixty percent of you is weeping inside," Will says in a monotone, eyebrows up.

"I embrace the pain."

Will laughs, shaking his head. He rearranges himself more comfortably on Darren's thighs. "You are such a dork."

"Who's been on the floor with me all morning trying to get Brian to play with the catnip filled mice?"

It's then that Will decides—he shouldn't, but Darren's face is so crumpled. "There's a secret," he whispers in mock severity, biting his lip. "But if Chris finds out he'll kill me, because we're not supposed to do it anymore."

"Intrigue," Darren hisses joyfully. "Tell me everything."

"You know those chocolate chip muffins, the bite-sized ones that come in packs? They're Brian's weakness. If you feed him those he'll be putty in your hands."

Which is how two grown men end up on their knees in the hallway of the upstairs of the Colfer-Sherrod household with muffins perched on either of Darren's knee caps and a very suspicious Brian sniffing his way along the carpet, tail raised and ears back.

It takes a half of an hour all told before he finally gives the muffin a sniff and a lick. His whiskers quiver and he stares up at Darren as if to say, "If this is a trap, my wrath will be terrible," and Darren just sits there as still as a spooked forest creature. Of course, the moment that Brian realizes what's on offer he snatches the muffin with his teeth and goes to town, tearing it apart and scattering the rug with crumbs.

"Oh my god," Darren says, laughing.

"Okay, now pet him," Will says.

Between muffins one and two, Darren pets Brian between the ears and shoulder blades and down to his wiggly butt. His tail twitches with acceptance by the time he goes for the second muffin, purring and even going so far as to let Darren scratch his back while he finishes it off. When there's nothing left but crumbs Brian sniffs around Darren for a minute or so, then gives a little flick with the end of his tail and trots off happily.

"It worked," Darren says. "You are a fucking genius." He tackles Will to the carpet and cuddles him so hard that they flop over onto their sides.

Of course, Darren starts having an allergic reaction just before Will gets to swoop in for a kiss, and it isn't until later that day and he's recovered that they're cuddled close again on the couch in the living room.

Will is still glowing with success. This whole day has felt like a return to the play dates of childhood—the good ones, anyway—and served as a reminder that time with Darren always seems to feel that way, like being grown up and a kid all at once, with only the best of both on offer. He is just—fucking smitten. He wants Darren to know how much he likes him, but it feels weird without Chris here. So he decides to go with flirting.

"You have the sexiest mouth."

Darren's eyebrows go up. "William. Are you feeding me a line?"

"Maybe?"

"Your game needs work."

Will groans. "Oh, come on." He lowers his voice and leans in, brushing the tips of their noses together. "I've wanted to kiss you all day."

Darren's cheeks go pink, but he's still smirking. "Cheesy."

"I'd sing to you, but I've been told that both my song writing skills and vocal abilities are somewhat lacking," he adds, eyes twinkling.

"Getting warmer," Darren replies, breathing hot over Will's open mouth.

He curls a hand around the back of Darren's neck and pulls, pressing their lips together. It's the first time they've kissed in complete privacy and Will shivers, and the shiver rolls all the way to his toes.

"Is this okay?" Darren asks roughly when they break apart to breathe.

Will isn't sure. They'd promised to leave the big firsts for when they were all together or at the very least not paired off, but making out had never come up in those conversations and Chris has often joked about letting Will "take care" of Darren when he was too cranky and overworked to tolerate his and Will's combined energy levels.

Darren's t-shirt is rumpled up around his ribs and his jeans twisted low on his hips. His bare feet and hairy forearms and the sweet thick curves of his neck and jaw are calling to Will, creating an itch in his fingers and a warm throbbing ache in his belly for more.

He licks out over that plump mouth that he's been fantasizing about all day. "Should we ask?" It's not something that he'd suggest unless he didn't want this to go past kissing, but—he sort of does.

They go for their phones at the same time. It takes five minutes to get a response from both Mia ("go for it, tiger") and Chris ("just don't fuck him yet"), and by then the distracting tease of Darren's fingers at the small of his back is driving Will literally insane.

"Bedroom?" Darren asks, vibrating with obvious anticipation.

Will races him up the stairs and down the hall and they fall onto the bed in the guest room like giddy kids, Darren's arms going around his neck and his hands settling on Darren's lower back. They make out and roll around, laughing and slobbering all over each other, teeth and tongues and lips and fingertips and legs.

Darren breaks the kiss for a breath and whines, "Fuck, so good."

Will's pulse is pounding in every crook and bend of his body. Darren around him, smelling and feeling so compact and masculine, is almost too much after weeks of craving one on one—it's just that he's so different from Chris, and Will can't stop thinking about how lucky he is to have them both at the same time.

He catches Darren's bottom lip between his and tugs it. "Want you," he breathes, dragging Darren's leg over his hip. "Want you so bad." He voice goes lispy and twangy when he gets excited, and he can feel Darren panting just as excitedly against his jaw as their hips line up.

"Fuck," Darren hisses, thrusting. "Fuck, so fucking hard already—"

Will thumbs Darren's jeans open as Darren does his and they both shudder when their cocks brush. "I had plans," he says, biting down on Darren's thick throat and rocking forward.

"Yeah?" Darren asks, shoving a hand between them and wrapping their erections up in one fist.

"Shit."

"Plans?"

"Plans that involved me at least getting your pants off before I came all over your dick," Will growls, working himself through Darren's fist, against Darren's cock.

"Your plans suck," Darren breathes, rolling Will on top of him. "Come on. We have all night."

He lets Will work a hand between their bodies so that they can both more efficiently jerk themselves, and it only takes a few minutes for Darren to shoot over his own hand, Will's lips sucking sore spots into the side of his throat.

"So fucking hot," Will groans, and comes shortly after, shaking and fucking the channel of his fist, spurts of come landing all over Darren's cock and belly and clothes.

When they're breathing normally again Darren mutters, "Your Doctor Doolittle seduction was so smooth. Like. Mad respect, Will."

Will cracks up, shoulders twitching as his come dries on Darren's chest. "You know just what to say." He shifts up onto an elbow, adjusting his clothes and tucking himself back into his pants. "Seriously? This is—all kind of new for me."

Darren smiles, shrugs, "I know. Us too."

"Well, that, yeah, I mean, duh, but, this—you and me," Will says, feeling stupid.

He always does this—gets incredibly demonstrative and emotional about lovers and close friends and has no trouble telling them so, and sometimes he forgets that not everyone is a fan of that approach. Darren has never struck him as the emotionally unavailable type, though, and so he hopes he's not just grossly overshooting the mark. He seems to have Darren's full attention now, at any rate.

"Oh," Darren says, soft and surprised and maybe a little sweet, pushing his fingers into Will's sweat-spiky hair and dragging him into a cuddle. "Oh, hey. Sorry. Fuck. That kind of went over my head."

"I really like you," Will confesses, brushing their mouths together.

"Feeling's mutual," Darren replies, finishing the gesture with a soft kiss.

 

*

 

They have tickets to a show.

Chris keeps repeating this, and Darren and Will continue making out against the door that leads to the garage. After reminder number four Chris gives up, opens his tablet and sits at the kitchen table and starts going through work-related emails with bored flicks of his fingers.

He has to admit, even though he's resisted the complete obliteration of their plans and had vaguely resented his boyfriends' lack of willpower, he's starting to cave; he can hear them whimpering and kissing and he knows from scientifically calculated past experience that Darren is about three minutes away from being on his knees and that versus an indie band, overpriced watery beer, and having to dodge the paparazzi is pretty much no contest.

So he wanders over after about ten minutes of relative silence—breathy noises and wet smacks aside—to find Will leaning back against the door with his jeans open and his fingers in Darren's hair, Darren's head bobbing rhythmically. It's not difficult to tell exactly what they're doing.

Chris smirks, tilts his head and leans one room away in the doorway, letting the space stay open between them, listening to the wet suck of Darren's mouth around Will's cock. He always boggles at how Will can be utterly absorbed in getting his dick sucked and yet so sweet at the same time, whispering praise and endearments and nicknames even as his perfect body writhes sinfully into every caress. It's gloriously hot.

Will looks up and their eyes meet. Chris licks his lips. Will's head thuds back against the wall.

There is nothing objectionable about watching Will get his cock sucked, especially not by those gorgeous, full, pink lips. Chris feels a twitch in his jeans, shifts his left leg and breathes out hot and slow, watching Darren's hands disappear eagerly down the back of Will's pants, kneading his ass and pulling him deeper.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Will rasps, knees going wide. "Oh fuck."

"Don't come," Chris says, startling Darren into stopping.

"We were gonna finish and then—" Will gasps, pointing in the vague direction of the garage.

"Babe, it's been an hour," Chris points out, smirking. Darren has turned on his knees, has his face resting innocently on Will's hip.

He closes the distance with measured steps, hums an aroused noise when he gets close enough to see the spit shining at the corners of Darren's mouth. He cards his fingers through the loose curls, not surprised. What is surprising is Will leaning over, kissing him and undoing the zipper on his pants before he says another word. He holds his breath, caught up in Will's kiss, only to be shocked away from the focus when Darren fishes him out of the front of his underwear and begins sucking him while he's still soft, hungrily tonguing the warm, flaccid length of his dick until it's swollen enough to take in at an angle.

God, that mouth.

Chris slides one arm around Will's shoulders, deepens their kiss, and the other hand sinks farther into Darren's hair. He lets his hips sway into the wet suckling, his breathing ragged between he and Will's mouths as Darren whimpers around his mouthful. He feels air hit the spit on his dick when Darren switches, takes Will's cock back inside and gives him a little attention.

He can't help but look down as Darren sucks them both, one hand on each cock, guiding their heads past his lips at the same time, finally, eyes fluttered shut with pleasure; he can feel Will's dick hard and warm and wet with saliva gliding against his in Darren's mouth, and it's too much. This is going to end in minutes, and Chris has no intention of wasting an entire night out for the sake of a blowjob, as hot as it may be.

"Wait," he breathes. Will goes still beside him, waiting for his cue, and Darren reluctantly pulls off, faint strings of saliva connecting his mouth to the tip of Chris' cock.

Chris crooks his finger in an up motion and Darren stands.

He'd really intended to give them both about a barrel's worth of shit about the tickets going to waste, but there is just something about Darren with those cock sucking lips and his eyes wide with needy arousal that has always made Chris useless and stupid, and one look at Will silently pleading with him to take this to the bedroom is more than enough to crush his resolve into a thousand pieces.

It's the first time they've really taken it to this level without Mia—she's given them blanket permission to do whatever they like, considering the fact that she's often not available to hang out with them—and there is only one thing that Chris wants to do, has wanted to do for weeks—wants Darren to let the both of them fuck him. He doesn't care about any details except for one: that he get to go first. The thought has literally been tormenting him all week leading up to this date, images of Darren pressed between them, or under them, or under him and then Will and then him again, spread and sweaty and taking it over and over.

He leans in and kisses Darren, warm and wet and off-center, savors the surprise that runs through his body. There's something endlessly electric about kissing Darren; when he's into it he's sloppy, all tongue and teeth and eagerness, whereas Chris is the focused, forceful kind of kisser. The difference is pleasurable, especially when they fight for it. He finds himself grinning as they try to one up each other, can feel Will's breath warm on their faces as he watches them, enthralled, aroused.

"Fuck me," Darren says in between their mouths when they break without declaring a winner. He slides one hand around the back of Chris' neck and the other around Will's back. "Fuck me. Want you both, right now. No frills. Just wanna be fucking stuffed full of you both."

He always did have a knack for reading Chris' mind.

Will pants desperately, kissing the side of Darren's neck as Chris kisses his. "Okay, baby?" he asks.

"God yes," Chris growls.

It's probably not the best idea to try and make out with two people at once while walking backwards, especially not when a trip up a considerable set of stairs is involved, but there's nothing that's going to drag Chris away from their mouths, from their hands running up and down his body, from the way that four hands can touch so much more of you than two.

By the time they reach the master suite his shirt is unbuttoned and his jeans peeled down past his hip bones and Will's hand is in his underwear and Darren's fingers are in his hair and he's being pressed back into the door and swapping their mouths after every breath and then finally giving that up, hungrily sucking their kisses side by side, too greedy to sacrifice one for the other.

Darren shoves his shirt off of his shoulders and it pools around his elbows. He kicks out of his shoes and socks as Will rolls his skin tight jeans off and Darren latches onto his throat and kisses and sucks while Chris undoes the buttons on his cuffs so that he can get the shirt off of his wrists. It's all a haze of warmth and cologne and wide, strong, male hands touching him everywhere.

At some point he's finally managed to get down to just his underwear and Will is mouthing him through them, fingertips poised just above the band while Darren kisses him and kisses him and kisses him and naturally he has to have his tongue in Darren's mouth otherwise what's the point of all these perfect, desperate kisses?

And then Darren and Will switch places. Chris almost loses it then and there, wants to just grind his clothed cock against Darren's mouth and come all over himself, Will's arms around his neck as Darren sucks him through his underwear, hot breath and saliva and the teasing touch of his teeth.

"Bed," he blurts, when it becomes too much. "Lube?"

"Got it," Will says, veering off for the nightstand while Darren crawls onto the bed.

Chris has a one track mind, follows Darren and crawls on all fours over him, kisses him and settles between his thighs. He's already seeing red, and isn't sure exactly what's gotten into him tonight, considering the fact that he'd been the one who had been ready first to go out.

"Fuck," Darren hisses, writhing to get his shirt off in between bouts. "Fuck, need to be naked now." Chris helps him get the rest of his clothing off, then whimpers when his hand finds Chris' ass and squeezes before pawing his briefs down. When their erections rub skin to skin Chris groans, burying his face in Darren's curls and hauling his legs around his waist.

"Fucking slut," he whispers into Darren's ear, a grin curling his lips. "Been on our dicks since the minute you got here. So hungry for it."

"Like you don't want my ass around you right now," Darren taunts, grinning just as impishly as he reaches between them to jerk Chris' cock.

"So sassy," Will says. "So rude." He's laughing, sitting up against the headboard stripped down to his boxers and stroking himself through them. "Don't let me interrupt now."

Darren's cheeks go dark. "C'mere?"

As Will bends over to kiss Darren upside down, Chris knees down Darren's body, bypassing his cock entirely and nuzzling below his balls tongue-first. He isn't about to reward cheek, and there are other places on Darren's body that he wants to touch more than his dick right now.

At the first pass of his tongue over Darren's perineum he whines, twists his pelvis and makes a noise that dies against Will's mouth.

"Shit," he gasps, tearing away from Will for a breath. "Oh, shit, yes."

Chris bends his knees, then shoves his thighs up, exposing him fully. "Rough or easy?"

"Just want it, don't care," Darren says, as Will kisses every inch of skin that he can reach. Chris takes the lubricant tube from Will's hand, uncaps it and gets a generous handful before going back to Darren, kissing his belly and hips. When Chris edges two fingertips around his quivering rim, he groans, "No, no fingers, god, just give me your cock, fuck."

Will hums against Darren's naked shoulder, dragging his tongue wetly across it. "Mm, so needy, baby."

"Not even one?" Chris asks, drawing it out, rubbing slow, wet circles around and against Darren's hole.

"Shit, shit, shit."

Chris grins, wild and seductive, working Darren's rim and pucker with hard, slow strokes. "That wasn't an answer." Will bends, sucking Darren's nipples to peaks with an equally aroused if slightly kinder smile.

"Feels good," Darren groans, ass rising off of the bed.

"Looks good," Chris confirms, face flushed.

Will kisses Darren quiet while Chris works at him, stroking him to the point of breaching his hole but never beyond a tease, edging back every time that Darren fucks forward, and the minutes tick by and he grows sweatier, more desperate, until he's practically lunging to get Chris' fingers deeper.

"So good for us," Will murmurs, kissing the curls off of Darren's forehead.

"Let me," Darren replies, reaching for Will's cock hanging heavy and hard between his legs.

"Mm, no, sweetheart, want to fuck you."

And god, his face as he says that, Chris can't help but lean over Darren's tight little body and kiss Will, capture his tongue and suckle it between his lips and nip his bottom lip between his teeth until he's kneeling bent forward just to maintain the connection. Chris sighs into his mouth, smoothing hair from his forehead with fond, slow strokes.

"Want him first," he says against Will's jaw, and Will nods and sits back, content to watch as Chris sinks to his knees between Darren's thighs, stroking the thick, muscled lengths of them. "Gorgeous," he says. Darren spreads underneath him, hazel eyes clear with arousal, wide and confident and even still a little cocky, even like this with his body begging for it.

Chris feels powerful, loves the thrill of being in charge as he kneels up, stroking himself erect over Darren's belly and thanking his lucky stars that they'd taken the time to get tested not a month ago when they all decided it was time to commit to each other. He doesn't want to stop for a condom now, not even to spare his one thousand thread count sheets.

Another squirt of lubricant and he bends Darren's legs over his shoulders, kissing the turn of a hairy knee as he rubs the head of his cock against Darren's soft, eager pucker.

"Fuck," he exhales. Just the flutter and clamp of it is enough to send chills down his legs, it's that good. He's not as generous with praise as Will, but he has to admit that Darren's ass is a fucking wonder. It's been a long time since he's had the pleasure, and having Will there to share it with makes it so much more intense. "Oh, fuck, yeah, let me in."

He can feel Will's eyes drinking them in, can feel Will's arousal as Chris sinks into Darren, inch by rigid inch. Can see Darren's legs go hard with pressure from ankle to thigh, Darren's body tense on the bed because Chris is a lot and they all know it. Can feel Darren's little hitches of breath as Chris stretches him from normal to full without the aide of fingers, can feel him go loose when Chris bottoms out, not because it's easy but because he has to or it'll hurt.

Will reaches out, tangles his fingers in Darren's curls and strokes them away from his flushed face as Chris exhales audibly and lets his pelvis settle between Darren's legs.

"God," Chris groans, bending low. He stops, forces himself to do so, ass and thigh muscles flexing and clenching with the effort of not slamming home. He breathes, feels his belly expand between the slopes of his ribs, feels the burn in his arms and shoulders from holding himself up over Darren. "Fuck, Dare."

And then the answering rock from below, a tentative flex of Darren's pelvis and suddenly there's friction, sweet merciful dangerous friction, the squeeze of his perfect ass like a vise around Chris' dick.

"Feels good, baby?" Will asks, kissing down Darren's cheek.

"Yeah, just, second, fuck," Darren pants, back bending inward.

It takes longer than that, but it's worth every still moment, feeling Darren's ass loosen just enough to let Chris move inside of it, feeling the slick squelch of lubricant noisy and accommodating around the shaft of his cock as it stretches Darren's rim wide.

Forgiving grinds escalate to slow, dragging pushes and pulls, and before long Chris is gently rocking in and out, Darren's chest gone red with a flush underneath him, rising and falling with a sudden rush of moans as Chris' cock fills every inch of him, makes him feel it to the very limits of his body.

"Please, fuck, oh, fuck, yes, just like that," Darren whines, fingers flailing for purchase on Chris' bulging arms.

Being fucked always gets him there, right to that place where everything is curses and begging and want and no hesitation whatsoever, just need. It's a thing that Will and Darren share and Chris is absolutely enthralled by it.

Settled, he lets himself watch his swollen cock slide in and out of Darren's ass. Lets himself admire the shimmer of lubricant between those lush cheeks, lets himself go hot and impossibly hard at the sheer pornographic thrill of a man's ass snug around his dick, sucking around him so that he almost has to work to pull out.

He fucks Darren faster as that ass grows forgiving in its grip, heartbeat picking up and muscles protesting as he takes, makes the bed creak with every push, forgets about Will watching and just loses himself in Darren's body, in the sweet beg of Darren's fingers around his shoulder blades and finally around the globes of his ass, pulling him in.

"Stay," Darren pleads, voice breaking, head tossed to the side, resting on Will's leg as Chris gets closer. "Stay in me, fuck, just wanna move around your dick, feels so good, fuck, Chris."

The slow, steady grind is worse on Chris' stamina than fucking at a more rapid clip might be, though, and it only takes ten minutes of this desperate, tight rocking before he has to stop or he's going to come, and he doesn't want to, not until Will's had his turn.

He bends low, brushes his trembling mouth over Darren's. "Ready for Will, honey?" he asks, breathless from the pace he'd been keeping.

"God, yes, please," Darren whimpers.

He eases out, almost whining at the loss of pressure as he moves out of the way, and before he can even say a word Will is there, arms twining around his waist and pulling him in, kissing him roughly. Chris groans, hands on Will's hips as they kiss. It feels good, grounding and safe, Will's arms and touch, the familiar smell and press of the man that Chris goes to sleep beside every night taking him smoothly from one act to the next.

He gently works Will out of his pre-come smeared boxers, takes time to stroke the hard, rippled muscular planes of his body. He knows that once Will is with Darren he won't get any direct attention; Will is specific when he's loving people like this and he's going to want to take good care of Darren.

Chris sits back against the headboard, takes himself in hand but just to arrange himself; if he starts jerking off watching Will and Darren fuck he'll never last.

Will lies down between Darren's thighs and kisses him, and goes on kissing him for what feels like ages. He's thorough and slow-paced, touching Darren everywhere, bringing goosebumps and the hair on his arms and thighs up. He loves coming in in the middle like this, able to enjoy the already there thrum of tension that Chris had created beneath Darren's skin.

Chris can tell the instant that Will's fingers gently play across Darren's hole; the bed twitches when Darren twitches, already so swollen and abused from Chris' cock that he can't help it.

"Mm, so soft," Will hums, stroking and stroking and stroking until Darren is a whimpering mess under his hands, toes curling as his body squirms upward. "Need it harder from me, hm? A little faster, get you all worked up?"

"Yes, fuck, yeah, please."

Chris watches, struck dumb with arousal at how Will can go from being the gentlest man you've ever seen to six foot two inches of masculine powerhouse in the blink of an eye; one moment he's gently working the fat width of his cock into Darren's ass, and the next he's bending Darren in half and fucking him fast enough to make the lamp on the nightstand shake.

Darren arches his neck back, flings his arms out to grasp the bedspread and gasps as Will works him over like a professional, hitching his pelvis so that every stroke has the potential to graze Darren's prostate. Judging by the squeaking cries and gasps, he's succeeding.

Ten minutes, then fifteen, then twenty, and they're both dripping sweat and Chris' cock feels like it's going to literally explode in his loose fist. If he didn't want back inside of Darren so badly he'd be sorely tempted to just kneel up behind Will and rut against his ass and come all over him.

Finally, even Will's stamina is exhausted, and Darren is a rag doll on the bed, breathing fast and shallow, eyelids fluttering and body tapped. He's exhausted and overworked and the corner of Will's mouth is turned up in a soft grin because he did that and he knows it. He stops slowly, letting Darren get used to it, then begins stroking Darren's chest.

"With me, sweetheart?"

"Fuck, Will."

"Thought I had been."

Darren laughs weakly, sweat-shine and brown skin and heaving, soft belly. "God, you could do anything to me right now and I wouldn't care what."

"No preference?" Chris asks, so eager to come that he doesn't care much, either.

There's a thoughtful pause. Will is kissing soft lines up and down Darren's calves. And then Darren tilts his head, looks at Chris upside down and says, "Come in me? Both of you?" Will begins to move again, but Darren puts a hand on his tight, flushed, sweaty chest and adds, "At the same time?"

Chris' cock twitches. Will bites his lip, looks at Chris and then Darren. "Sure you can take us both?"

Oh fuck yes he can, Chris thinks, inching across the bed.

"Let me kneel up, straddle you, and Chris can—from behind," Darren says, looking over his shoulder as he climbs to his kneels with a groan—he's seriously worked over—and the way that looks, Darren naked and sweaty and bunched up on his knees with his glistening, heavy, round ass spread wide open, hole gaping brown and hair-dusted and pink from friction, makes Chris so crazy that he hopes he can get in that before he shoots.

"Shit," Will breathes, overwhelmed by the idea as Darren straddles his lap and pushes him back inside with one hand, an easy motion considering how stretched he is.

Shaking, Chris presses the head of his cock between Darren's cheeks. "Breathe and just let me go slow," he says, fingers slipping in all the sweat and lubricant.

But somewhere in between that and Chris pushing the head of his cock in alongside Will's shaft, Darren whines and grows impatient, wriggles back and forces Chris halfway in. Chris goes still, inhaling sharply; he can feel Will's throbbing cock and Darren's tight rim forced even wider and fuck it's tight, not great ass tight but physically improbable tight, almost to the point where he's not sure if it's doable.

Darren huffs, clutching Will's shoulders. They can't both fully fuck him at the same time, so Will begins to thrust upward, shallow and fast.

"Holy shit," Chris gasps. "Can feel you—fucking him, oh my god."

Will pants, presses his mouth to Darren's throat and puts his arms around Darren's waist. "Fuck. Fuck, baby, so fucking tight."

Darren growls, closing his teeth around a patch of skin on Will's shoulder. "Yeah, come on. Come in my ass. Come inside of my ass, fucking make me wet."

"Jesus Christ," Chris hisses, clutching Darren's hips and shaking with it. He can feel every inch of Will's cock rubbing against his stationary length, and it's almost enough to make him come.

"Shit," Will hisses, and Chris feels his dick throb as he comes, the low sticky pulse of it over and over, and it pushes him right to the edge. When he moves next, after Will, panting, goes still, he can feel it, can feel the wet slide of Will's come inside of Darren; it's so much that it's almost like a fresh application of lubricant and his dick surges forward through the mess, easily sinking deeper, and fuck thank god Will has gone a little soft because Chris can get all the way in, now.

"Can feel your come inside of him, oh fuck, Will," he moans, hips snapping, and Darren goes tight around him.

"More, come on," he pants, hands wrapping backward around Chris' lean torso. "Come on, give it to me, come on. Come, mix it all up in me, yours and his, come on, fill me up."

Chris comes with a sob, biting down on Darren's bicep as he goes over the edge. It feels like he jolts out of his skin for a second, it's that intense, and the wetness is incredible. They pull out carefully, slowly, Chris first and Will second, and Chris presses a hand down along Darren's ass cheek.

"Hold it in," he says, unsure of what he's even asking for, but Darren clamps up at the request.

Darren had been soft almost the entire time—he doesn't often stay hard through being fucked, anyway, as Chris recalls—and Chris wants nothing more than to rectify that now. But Will clings, keeps Darren on his lap for a long series of moments, kisses him and touches him in places that Chris wouldn't think to: the bend of his arms, the back of his knees, the soft spots just above his shoulder blades. He caresses Darren's curls and the hinge of his jaw, whispers praise and a joke that has Darren giggling into the bend of his neck.

They look happy, content to find each other amongst the debauchery, and Chris can't help but feel both happiness and envy at the same time. It's so easy for them, in ways that Chris had to work at for years to comfortably find.

The kisses they share go warm and wet again, and Will breathes across Darren's flushed cheek, "Let me make you come. Just lie back, okay?"

Darren does, lets his ass stay in Will's lap but his back hit the bed, and Chris shifts around to join Will.

"Still all wet and messy inside with our come?" Chris asks, teasing behind Darren's balls.

"Yeah, fuck, so much."

He edges his fingers along Darren's puffy rim just as Will's fist closes around Darren's cock, pumping the almost entirely soft package while Chris pushes two fingers easily back inside of him. Darren is full and all it takes is one exploratory push of Chris' fingers for white, slick come to gush up, leaking out of Darren's ass and soaking Chris' fingers and palm.

"Oh," Darren moans.

"Fuck, that's it," Chris whispers, gently working a third finger in, making more come drip out. "God, that's it, let it out." Darren's cock has gone stiff in Will's hand. Will puts his free hand above Chris', slowly pushes his thick, long middle finger in alongside Chris' first two, not losing the rhythm with his other hand.

"Shit," he breathes, as their come sluggishly drips from his open hole and coats their fingers. "I can," he pants, fucking himself through Will's fist, "take another, fuck."

Will adds another, and between them that's four. Chris thinks wildly that they could easily get a whole fist inside of him at this rate, but he doesn't want to push it; it's enough to get to stare blatantly as the combined slick mess of his and Will's come slides free.

Darren's cock is shiny and tight at the head and Chris can't resist bending over to take it in his mouth as Will jerks him, smooth and fast, orgasm bound with no hint of teasing him. He's been so good, so perfect; there doesn't seem to be a reason to hold back any longer.

Darren slides his fingers into Chris' hair and thrusts up. Chris' saliva dripping down the shaft eases the passage of Will's hand, and he must be close, because his hips are choppily hitching and he's bent again, head thrown back, neck and shoulders corded up.

"That's it," Will breathes, above the noise of his fist damply jacking Darren's cock. "Come for us, Darren, just like that." He shifts his grip lower, lets Chris suck and bob around the head. Together they push deeper, letting the combination of their four longest, thickest fingers fill every inch of Darren's ass.

Chris curls his fingers—his are on top now—back inward and higher, and when he finds that swollen prostate Darren tenses, fists flaring open wide, ass off the bed.

"Fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck yeah, right there, don't, stop, shit." He grips Will's thigh with his free hand and pulls Chris' hair with the other. It must be a sensory overload, his thoroughly used ass spread wide, full of come, prostate being worked as Will jerks his cock and Chris sucks it. "Oh my god, c-coming—"

When he comes, Will takes his fingers out and whatever had been left in him comes trickling out around Chris' fingers, which are fucking up and over his prostate hard and fast as he comes down Chris' throat. His body is as tight as a bowstring, arched off the bed, heels dug in, pelvis snapping against Chris' jaw as he fills Chris' throat and mouth so completely that it drips down Chris' chin.

He lies there in a puddle of all three of their releases after, ass shining wetly, sheets beneath him soaked, as Chris sucks him soft and slow, licks his pubic hair clean, and is about to start on the stuff gathered on his chin when Will leans in and does it for him. He grins, turning a kiss against Will's jaw.

Darren certainly has nothing to add; he's sprawled like a starfish, breathing like a racehorse, as Will grabs wet wipes from the nightstand and gets rid of the worst of the mess. They shift over lazily to the dry side of the bed, though there's only just enough room for three with Darren snug between them.

Chris isn't surprised when Darren turns naturally to cuddle up to Will, and he doesn't mind; he likes a little space to breathe after sex, and both Will and Darren know that.

"Fucking amazing," he murmurs, pressing his cheek to Will's chest. "Sleeping now, fuck showers."

Will laughs, carding his fingers through Darren's hair, then glances over at Chris, who smiles and tangles their free hands over the pillow that Darren is resting his head on. He loves watching Darren's body curled up so compact in Will's arms.

"Love you," Chris says.

"Love you, too," Will replies. "Comfortable? I'm closest to the door, could go get us some water or a change of underwear or something."

"Maybe later. Tired. Sleep, okay?"

"Mm," Will hums, obviously already halfway there.

 

*

 

After that, it's easier. There's less hesitation between the three of them; Will doesn't worry so much about Chris finding his interest in Darren to be over the top. Chris has never given him reason to feel like anything had ever really been weird to begin with, aside from the initial "can Darren and I get over our bullshit" phase, but Will is so sensitive to Chris' needs and feelings that sometimes he thinks too much about the arrangement.

It balances out, especially when he gets the opposite view; there are times when Chris and Darren go off alone, or find each other in the corner of a room at a party, and Chris starts giggling and rolling his eyes and Darren's kissing him and Will can feel the weight of the years they've spent working together, misses an in joke, learns how close they've grown despite everything, and he knows that it's not just him who is falling for Darren.

He feels safer. Of course, he also feels protective.

One night they've managed to completely incognito their way into a mixed club and Darren has found his way into a round of shots with a band he met on his way back from the men's room. Will gets a weird vibe from the group which Darren obviously doesn't, so he goes in search of Chris, but finds Chris deep in conversation with Ashley, who is apparently having relationship issues, and Chris gently touches his side and asks Will to give them a minute.

Cut adrift, Will finds himself gravitating back toward Darren, who has taken to the dance floor with a couple of the band members who he's befriended. He's caught, at first, in between their female vocalist and male bass player, but as the song goes on the bass player takes him by the hips and monopolizes him until the woman gives up with a shrug and a smile and drags the next available person against her.

The bassist is the weird vibe source, and Will leans against the bar and sips his beer and feels worms in his belly. He's not sure why he's feeling so twitchy, but the guy just rubs him the wrong way, and the fact that Darren has the ability to more or less love everyone he meets—a thing that Will usually shares, but apparently not tonight—worries him sometimes.

Darren doesn't seem to care whether it's a fan or a stranger or a colleague, he's just the same with everyone, and early lectures from Chris about how they needed to handle everyone case by case and differently stick in Will's mind. It's a huge difference between them, one that Will is constantly analyzing. The funny thing is—he loves the way that they handle themselves, even though they do so very differently.

Really, he just has to admit that he's—a little jealous, watching Darren dance with this guy. His hands are all over Darren's body, groping his ass, a thigh between Darren's, and Darren isn't guarded at all. He's laughing and drunk and enjoying himself. It isn't Will's job to police him or his behavior, and if he's having fun then it should be okay. He just wishes he could feel that way.

The urge to get between them won't go away. So after a couple of songs he dances up beside them, catches Darren's eye and relaxes when he gets that sweet, surprised smile, when Darren wraps an arm around his shoulder sideways and screams in their ears over the music, "Jake, this is Will. Will, Jake." Darren bobs in place, trying to dance with them both at the same time.

"I didn't know it was senior citizen's night," Jake says, laughing. He's drunk and it comes out harsher than intended for that, but knowing this doesn't stop Will from immediately tensing. His hackles rise and his pulse picks up.

Darren makes that face he makes when he's uncomfortable and trying not to show it, that sideways glancing away eyebrows drawn together expression that makes Will want to touch him to calm him down. "Hey, man, that's not cool. Don't be a fucking asshole."

Jake stiffens, staring at them. "You kidding me? I've been drinking and dancing with you half the night and you came with Grandpa here? What, he just like watching you dance with younger guys before he takes you home? Hope your Viagra prescription's got refills."

Oh, fuck.

Darren shoves the guy, two hands to the center of his chest, sending him back a couple steps. "You're outta line."

"Darren, stop," Will says quickly, not reaching for him but unable to keep his mouth shut. "Let it go. Let's just go, okay?"

In the two seconds it takes for Darren to turn to say something to him the guy rolls his eyes and shrugs it off, disappearing into the crowd. Will takes Darren's hand and walks them right out of the club and onto the sidewalk, then down a side alley so that they won't have to worry about being spotted from the street.

"Why did you—"

"We can't risk being noticed in this club period, much less for fighting," Will says, hot and tight and angry. He can feel the rage building in his arms and chest. He wishes for just a split second that he didn't live the kind of life that required him to manage every single encounter with a stranger so minutely, so carefully.

"He was asking for it," Darren counters, fists clenched. "I'm not gonna let him talk about you like that. Why did you even come over, you told me you didn't like them the minute I met—"

Will paces, then stops, running a hand through his hair. "He had his hands all over you."

"So what?" Darren blurts, shaking his head. He doesn't get it.

"Didn't like it," Will admits, putting his hands on Darren's chest and pressing Darren back into the side of the building. It's filthy, but he can't stop himself, can't keep his fingers from tangling around Darren's jaw, in Darren's curls. "Didn't want him on you like that."

Realization dawns, and Darren's mouth twitches and his voice goes rough and low, "Honey, it didn't mean anything, I was just—"

"I know it didn't," Will replies, cutting him off with a fierce kiss. And then another. And another. "Totally irrational and stupid and not my business, I just couldn't watch it for another second, I just—fuck, wanted to rip him off of you." He presses Darren's body into the unforgiving bricks, kissing him. "Stupid kid. Stupid fucking kid."

"Is that what this shit is?" Darren asks, breathing heavily into the kisses, "You—you were fucking jealous?"

"I didn't say it was smart," Will replies. His touch belies his words, fingers bruising and moving over Darren like they could box him and keep him if they were larger and more, squeezing his arms and back and jaw, kisses like brands. "God, Darren."

"You like it when I'm yours, don't you?" Darren asks, leaning up on his toes to get his face against Will's ear. Will crowds him into the wall; he's easily six inches taller than Darren, so it isn't difficult to do. "Huh? That's what this is about, want me to yourself."

"Ours," Will groans, rubbing their bodies together. "You're ours."

He thinks about Darren, wearing just a pair of jeans and his guitar, sitting on their couch on a Sunday morning singing for him while Chris works upstairs. He thinks about laughing until he cries and making out with Darren, feeling like a teenager sneaking a grope in semi-privacy. He thinks about the thrill of it, Darren's full mouth under his own, filthy, sneaky hands going down the back of his pants, his hushed, dirty, "God, Will, your ass." A part of him has to acknowledge that he does get off on Darren's singular attention, and always has.

"True. But not all the time. Sometimes I'm just mine." He lowers his lips to Will's collarbone, then Will's chest, kissing a path down between his open shirt halves, undone three buttons down. "And sometimes I could be yours. Would you like that? Just the two of us?" Will's heart beats frantically under Darren's mouth. "Together, maybe at my place. It's a fucking mess but I can see you there, in my bed, on top of me." He unbuttons a fourth button, tongues wet and warm over Will's left nipple. "Inside of me. Want that, want that with you so much, Will."

"Darren," Will moans, glancing nervously at the mouth of the alley as Darren's teeth go at his nipple, get it hard.

"Fuck," Darren hisses, cupping Will through his pants. "Fuck, sweetheart, you're hard as a rock."

"So dumb, I just," Will groans, rocking into Darren's hand. "Please."

Darren undoes the zipper on his pants but not the button, slides his hand inside the gaping fly and the front of his briefs, fists him and starts jerking him hard and fast inside of the confines of his pants. Will shoves them harder into the wall, spreads his legs and traps Darren entirely inside of a bracket of knees and arms and shoulders. A passerby would hardly be able to see Darren there, he's so enveloped.

"Yeah," Darren breathes, shaking their bodies with the rapidity of his tugs. "Gonna come right here? Anyone could see, just walking by, your cock in my hand. Gonna come all over my fingers, mark me up as yours? Or come down my throat? I'll kneel when you're close, just tell me."

"Oh my god," Will hisses, fucking Darren's fist. "Oh god, Darren." He comes so suddenly that it takes them both by surprise; he shoots inside of his pants, mostly, feels the wet streaks and the hot throb of flawless release, Darren's hand milking him dry stroke by stroke, until there's nothing left. He zips Will up, grinning, and kisses his slack mouth.

"Not a bad way to recover from that bullshit.”

"I'm sorry," Will breathes, eyelids fluttering. He's woozy and still a little drunk and the orgasm is making him sleepy. Adrenaline purged, it all seems so idiotic and unfair, the way he'd reacted.

"Shut up," Darren says, taking him by his jacket lapels and tugging him down the alley. "Shut up and come dance with me."

 

*

 

It's one of those rare weekends when Chris is out of town promoting his book without Will along and Darren is at home—not without something to do, that never happens, but because he kind of told everyone to fuck off; he really needs to do shots and jerk off and write some fucking music—alone. The problem is that he doesn't think that he's been alone in like eleven months and one hour into his me time he's pacing the walls with his guitar looped over his shoulder, realizing that he absolutely fucking hates being alone.

He has probably eight thousand people he could call and his house would be party central before he even finished telling them what kinds of booze to bring, but it's weird, that doesn't feel like what he wants, and so he picks up his phone and scrolls through his contact list and before he thinks about his choices he's dialing Will's number.

It's not the strangest choice—he knows that Chris and Will are sickeningly inseparable (the honeymoon phase is brutal, man) and after too much preplanned fun time without Chris he gets itchy and mopey and wants to just be alone and work on his screenplay.

But that's so uncool. They're both alone and trying to be productive and creative and shit when all Darren wants to do now is not be alone, and thinking about Will alone in that shiny new house of theirs, maybe lounging around in a pair of boxers, shirtless and freshly showered—

Yeah, fuck this alone bullshit

Will answers the phone, "How bored are you?"

Darren smirks. "On a scale of one to ten?"

"I can hear your smirk, sweetheart."

"Can you hear my hand down my pants, too?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

"Nope. Just my dick in my hand. I think we can safely leave Jesus out of it, unless you feel spiritual about my dick, in which case—"

"You're hopeless."

"This is a booty call. It's hopeless by default. I miss your gorgeous face. Lonely?"

"You have no idea how quiet this place is right now," Will says. Darren can hear Brian mewing softly in the background. "Not to mention getting used to—every night, and now he's not here, and I am so—"

Darren moves his hand on himself, letting out a breath. "Yeah?"

"I've cleaned the pool, rearranged my office, written and deleted three pages of dialogue, played laser with Brian—he lasted thirty seconds this time, a new record—and dusted half the house. I am going stir-crazy." There's a long pause, the squeak of a chair or a couch cushion, and then Will asks, "You lonely, too, baby?"

"God, yeah," Darren replies, lifting his balls in his left hand and pressing his fingers underneath them. "Thinking about the last time we were in that pool, now." He'd been between Chris and Will, wet and overwhelmed and full at both ends, and had ended up swallowing almost as much come as pool water. "Good fucking night, man."

"It was," Will agrees, voice going rough and low. "God, you were so hot."

It takes only minutes to get to the edge of an orgasm with Will breathing in his ear. "Fuck—fuck—"

"Fingering that ass open for me?" He can hear Will shift around.

"Do you want me to?"

"God, yeah, Dare."

He takes his time, easy with Will telling him what to do, one finger and then two, slow and then faster and deeper until his thighs are splayed as wide as they can go, headset against his ear and his free hand on his cock. Will makes him wait, makes him work for the third and finally the fourth finger before he tells Darren to come, and by then Darren is sweating and whimpering and messy, lube all over the couch and his legs.

"Please," he spits, ass practically swallowing his fingers. "Oh fuck please let me come, want to come for you, come so fucking hard." He can hear Will breathing frantically over the phone. The thought of Will's brown, ripped body sprawled over the couch or his and Chris' bed touching himself only makes Darren creep closer to orgasm.

"Fuck, want you here so bad," Will pants. "God, miss you, wish it were my cock in your ass, want you to come all over my body, want to make you scream."

"Will, fuck—"

"God, can't keep my fingers out of myself thinking about your cock, Dare, want you so bad—"

"Shit. Can I? Can I come, fuck, Will, please."

"Little more, just—little more, so fucking close," Will pants.

"Did you mean it? About my cock, about—"

"God, yes, been so—he's been gone for days and I just need—god, so close thinking about you fucking me, Darren, just pounding me into the mattress, so much energy, know you'd make it so good—"

"I've never fucked a guy's ass before," Darren gasps, jerking himself faster. Now that he's thinking about it he can't stop, the way that Will would feel, tight as a drum around him, the way that hard as a rock body would look under him, taking his cock, rocking around it, or riding him, pecs and abs pinched with effort, sweat-glistening and defined. "Fuck, Will. Fuck, want that with you. Want to see your ass around my dick, fuck, your perfect little ass."

"Darren," Will moans, and comes with a shuddering groan.

Darren follows, unable to stop himself, fucking his hole so fast that the wet slick noise of it echoes off of the ceiling of the living room. "Fuck!"

Urgency bleeds as he lies there in his own sweat and come, nonplussed and physically buzzing with contentment. They breathe together, and then Darren laughs into the phone.

"Fuck, that was good."

"Would've been better in person," Will says.

It's true that the orgasm hadn't really satisfied beyond the physical—Darren's already bored and itching to do something again. "You could—come over."

For just a second, it's a question mark between them. It hasn't been long enough since that night at the club for Will to forget Darren's offer, but they haven't discussed it since, and this is the first time that both Chris and Mia have been too far away to be a part of the fun.

"Yeah?" Will replies, sounding overwhelmed but eager.

"If Chris is okay with—"

"He said he wouldn't mind, when he left." Will exhales. "Do you want me to come over?"

Darren frowns, playing with the sticky mess that's rapidly cooling and drying on his belly. "Yeah. Is that cool?"

"Yeah," Will answers.

And there's something there, something well beyond the ease of lust that makes Darren's heart race, something that's been building between them for months, something that's the result of Will's complete dedication to making Darren fall for his adorable fucking face.

Three hours later Will is on his doorstep. Darren had showered and changed into a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but his hair is a curly mess and he's wearing his glasses because he just cannot be fucked to mess around with his contacts right now.

Will is wearing jeans that might as well be painted on, a t-shirt with a graphics logo that Darren would have to stare at for a while to figure out, his hair a little spiky from his own shower, sunglasses and a leather jacket, looking like every gay fantasy that Darren has ever had. Fuck, he is hot. He's tall and broad and chiseled and Darren wants to dig his fingertips into Will's pecs and hold on for the ride.

He expects it to be grasping and eager from the start. He expects to be slammed up against the door as soon as it's shut. But all Will does is shrug off his jacket and sunglasses, turn a circle in the entryway to the kitchen and slide his hands around Darren's jaw, pulling him up into the softest kiss that Darren has had in a long time.

He whimpers, pressing their bodies together. The intimacy surges through him like liquid fire, sending the hair on his body on end, as Will's fingers clasp his throat, his neck, his shoulders, and finally his waist, drawing him in even closer. Will kisses the breath right out of his body, tongue turning laps in his mouth, eyes closed.

When they pull apart Darren goes down off of his toes (Jesus Christ he's tall), eyes heavy with warmth, lids lifting in time with Will's.

Fuck.

"Fuck," he breathes, Will's hands cupping his ass.

"God, honey," Will replies, kissing down his neck. "God, wanna—" One hand breaks away, circles around and squeezes Darren's cock through his sweatpants.

Darren can't breathe, it's that intense. How is it somehow sweet and raunchy at the same time, Will's broad shoulders walking him down the hallway, thick fingers never leaving his body for more than a second? He can't stop staring at Will's cock and ass clearly defined in his tight jeans, and at the arms of his t-shirt cutting into his bulging biceps. He knows that Will dressed like this to turn him on and fuck, it's working, especially when Darren thinks about what he'd said over the phone—

Will kisses him all the way to the bed, encouraging his arms around his shoulders, though it's a reach because normally their height difference makes the other way easier. He drives his fingers into Will's hair and uses the leverage to guide the kisses, wet obscene lick-filled dives between their mouths, their hips slotting together when Darren arches high enough to line them up.

He hisses out, dropping a hand to squeeze Will's ass. "Drove all this way just to get your ass fucked?"

Will groans, tilting his head as Darren latches onto his neck and sucks, hard. "Fuck, yes. Want you to fuck me slow, make me feel it, make me love it."

He'd left the lubricant on the bed before he'd gone to shower, so all he has to do is nudge Will back toward the bed. He fingers Will's fly just once, tapping the curve of the smooth button as he kisses Will's jaw.

"Let me suck you first," he breathes, popping the button and easing the zipper down.

Will sinks his fingers into Darren's curls as Darren kneels. "God, missed your mouth—" He's cut off when Darren takes him out of his briefs and swallows him down in one smooth motion.

Darren pops off only to say, "Take off your shirt."

Will's bulging shoulders and biceps should never be hidden by shirts—and the fat curves of his high pecs tapering into the smooth but firm slope of his belly and hips, leading to the cut of his pelvis and the thick, long swell of his cock—fuck, he's so wide—make Darren literally salivate. It's all he can do to tear himself away from staring to get that dick back in his mouth.

He sucks Will until Will is panting and tugging his curls, fucking his mouth with soft thrusts, and only when his jaw starts to twinge does he stop, pushing Will back onto the bed and tugging his shoes and socks off before peeling the skin tight jeans from his legs. He bites at Will's rock hard thighs all the way back to his cock, where he licks and tugs happily for some time, until Will shimmies up onto the bed fully and gets comfortable by the pillows.

Darren follows on his hands and knees, not letting their mouths separate for more than a breath or two.

He loves kissing Will, loves how slow and careful the motions are, but still with so much masculine force behind them—it's sort of a mixture of the kind of kisses that Darren has had from both men and women, and he's already so addicted to it that it's not even funny. There's also something so intimate about it, so personal, that he can't help but be reminded of the man behind the kiss every time, a playful and loving sensation that he can only describe as Will in a nutshell.

He peels the briefs off of Will's gorgeous hips and buries his face in Will's pubic hair, breathing him in deeply. "Um," he breathes, as Will's legs bend at the knee and spread for him. Will reaches down and takes himself in hand, angling his cock up and over his belly. He's watching Darren, eyes hot and full of wanting. "You're gonna have to instruct me a little, here."

Will strokes himself, legs going even wider. There's a sharp, almost animal spark of need in his eyes, a desperation that Darren has never seen but expects that Chris has many times.

"I stretched a little before I left," Will says, jacking himself faster. "I don't need much, just—put some lube on me, and some on yourself, okay?"

He sort of gets lost somewhere in between that and kneeling up between Will's thighs. He can't help himself; he has to put his mouth on that thick neck, that impossibly delicious ridge of muscle between Will's neck and shoulder. He can't stop leaving marks all down and around Will's pecs, can't stop licking tracks of saliva all over that abdomen and belly. He takes Will's cock in his mouth again for a while, just mouthing and licking at it, until Will laughs and pushes him off.

"Wanna come with you in me," he confesses, hips squirming.

"Yeah? Is that how you like it?" Darren asks, one hand between his own legs, keeping himself hard as he explores Will's thighs and groin.

"Yeah," Will breathes, eyelids fluttering with pleasure as Darren kisses and sucks at his nipples. "Love being full and coming around a hard cock. Chris—well, you know."

Darren grins, laving his tongue over the hard nubs beneath his mouth. "He's like the goddamned energizer bunny, I know."

Chris' stamina and unrelenting roughness in bed is no secret to either of them. He remembers early on in the days before Will, before he and Mia were sure that they were going to make the long distance thing work and had left things open, days when Chris would take Darren home after a day on set and not want to hear a word out of his mouth, just wanted to fuck him until he literally couldn't take it anymore.

But this is different. This thing between the four of them is intense, and Darren has feelings for them all, but his feelings for Will are the newest of the bunch, and god, there are dozens of things about Will that work for him so well, it's almost scary.

Some days it almost feels like he's getting too close to the way that he'd felt for Mia in the honeymoon phase—not that he loves her any less now, but there is something to be said for the first few years, there always is, and the love that starts to take over around the four or five year mark is just different. But Will is special. Just as special as Mia or Chris to Darren, and it's slowly dawning on him that maybe Will feels the same.

He breathes warm over Will's neck, kissing all the way up his jaw to his mouth, where they get started again, and the lube dries on Will's cheeks because they get lost in the kisses, Will going easy under Darren, arms spread above his head on the pillow, legs around Darren's thighs.

"You feel so good," Will sighs, rubbing their noses together. "God, can we—want you inside. Just press up hard against me and let me work myself down around you, okay?"

Shaking, Darren reapplies the lubricant to himself and then Will's—god, he's so hot and tight, clenching and hairy and warm, and one day Darren is going to put his mouth between those cheeks and learn how to mimic what the fuck it is that Will can do to him there so easily, but tonight he senses that Will just needs this, so—he presses up, letting his fingertips work against Will's hole, which is soft and gives easily.

"Shit," Will hisses, back arching, cheeks spreading around Darren's fingers. "Fuck me. Need it, can't wait."

It's nothing at all like fucking Mia's ass, which he has done—something about Will's body under him, needing him there, is so different. He presses in, holding his breath and letting Will slide down around him, as tight as a fist. And then Will swivels his pelvis, and all the muscles in his legs and torso and arms twitch and quiver visibly, and Darren sinks his teeth into Will's bicep and thrusts in. He can tell that he's scraped past Will's prostate by the sudden gasp and shiver, and he pulls out and thrusts back in, trying to repeat what he'd done.

"Don't—you don't have to—be fancy, just—" Will scrambles a little, wrapping his legs high around Darren's waist, putting one hand in Darren's springy, sweaty curls and the other around the headboard of the bed behind him. "Fuck my ass. Hard and fast, I just want to feel you, come on, baby."

Fuck. Fuck.

Darren stops trying and just lets go, lets himself go wild over Will's body, fucking him deep and even the way that he'd fuck Mia if she were really wet and stretched and ready. At some point instinct just takes over—he holds Will down by his forearms and shoves those thick, hard thighs over his shoulders and fucks him in half, using the spring of the bed to make his thrusts bouncy and rhythmic.

Will's eyes slide shut for most of it, his hand around his own cock, but then Darren pins him down to their joined hips and replaces the grasp of his fist with the slide of Darren's belly.

"Can you come like this?" he gasps, fucking into Will's impossibly tight body, feeling Will's cock throb between them.

"Yes," Will whines, locking his calves around Darren's upper back. "Yes just don't stop—"

He doesn't stop, but he does slow down at points, because even his stamina has its limits, and he kind of likes how Will goes all soft and loose around him when he goes slow, likes the way that his eyes drift open and stare up at Darren with an affection that's almost a little too intimate. He likes it, likes how personal it is between them.

At one point he presses their foreheads together and stares into Will's eyes and kisses him, slow and damp and shaky, feeling him breathe out as his body takes Darren as deeply as it can.

He isn't expecting it, though, when Will sighs, "God, love you," between one kiss and the next, though.

He shudders, cock twitching. "Will—"

"You know that, right?" Will asks, whimpering and twisting beneath him. "You know we—we both—but you've always known about Chris, I just never—I've never said, but—god, I do, Darren, love you so much, want you to feel at home with us, always—"

Darren moves faster, heart racing and cock aching for release. This kind of talk usually just throws him off of his game, but something about what Will is saying is making him feel hotter, harder, want more.

"Will," he gasps, thrusting rapidly. Will has gone impossibly tight around him, and he's so close, and Will's hand is between their bellies again. "Fuck, darlin', have to come."

"Go ahead," Will replies, tugging himself, breathing heavily.

"God," Darren cries, pinning Will's hips and rutting, hard and deep. "Feel so fucking good, fuck—" And he comes, pulsing, Will's rim swollen and slippery and clenching around the base of his dick. He can feel Will spurt between them moments later, feel the twitching throb of his ass around Darren's softening erection. The spill of his come is a mess between their chests. "Shit."

After, they asleep in the drying mess, unable to care, his head pillowed on Will's sweating, heaving chest, Will's fingers in his hair, mouth warm against the crown of his head. It's easy to slide under like that, cradled by strong arms, enfolded by the wider, longer body twined around his.

The next morning both their bodies and the sheets are gross but Darren doesn't care and Will doesn't seem to mind, either.

He wakes up in Will's arms, smiling into the soft press of kisses against his hair and face, as Will rolls over on top of him and holds him and goes on kissing him until the stickiness of their bodies becomes too much even for him.

They fry up bacon and eggs and eat breakfast in bed naked, feeding each other until everything is extra gross and smells like butter and bacon on top of sweat and body odor and semen, and only then do they go to shower, where Will kisses him senseless under the spray, pressing him into the wall and fingering his cheeks apart with soapy strokes.

"Mm," Darren hums, twisting their bodies together. "I like where this is going."

"All roads should lead to your ass," Will hisses, squeezing him there. "Wanna make you feel so good." He drops to his knees onto the bathmat and sucks Darren's cock between his lips—and things go fuzzy then, because he's down there in the warm mist for what feels like hours, sucking Darren slow and wet and deep until Darren is right there on the edge.

"Fuck, stop, too close," he gasps.

"Want to swallow you," Will says.

"Finger me?" Darren asks, eyes wide, lashes spiky, looking down at Will there on his knees, so fucking gorgeous, his body streaming shower water, tensed and coiled.

They step out of the spray so that the soap won't dry up or wash off, and Will works him open slowly, finger by finger, his thighs spread against the shower wall, until he's flushed from forehead to collarbone and gasping, begging, pleading for an orgasm, and only then does Will take his cock into his mouth again, sucking hard and working him with three thick fingers.

Will pulls off only to growl hoarsely, "Come down my throat, sweetheart."

Darren can't hold back any longer—he spills in Will's mouth, fucking himself down onto Will's fingers and crying out. He wants to collapse, but Will is sliding up his body, touching him and kissing him and keeping him standing by the sheer force of his upper body strength. Fuck he's big, so wide and fucking strong. It makes Darren dizzy.

"Turn around for me, love? Need to be in you." He kisses Darren's neck, fast and almost rough, rutting his hard cock against Darren's belly. "Need to be so fucking deep in you."

Darren doesn't feel capable of getting hard again—he has had so many orgasms in the last twelve hours—but that doesn't take away from the pleasure of Will's thick cock pushing inside of his ass, stretching him to his limit and giving him a smooth, perfect ride, pressing him into the warm shower tiles, pinning his arms and just taking him, using his body and smoothing kisses down the back of his neck and into his hair and across his shoulders.

Will murmurs endearments and expletives and curses as he gets closer and then finally, all at once, comes inside of Darren, biting the back of his neck.

"Shit, fuck," he breathes, sliding out.

It feels good, to be fucked open like that, and then Will gently cleans his asshole with a washcloth that's all warm and soapy, and there should be a law against something feeling that good. After, they actually do shower, and then make out for a little while in front of the mirror—they're both almost narcissistic about watching their bodies move together, though neither of them will admit it.

It's only then, standing there in Will's arms, feeling small and bracketed and so safe, that he turns his face into Will's neck and asks, "Did you mean what you said, last night?"

Will takes a moment to review, then slides his hands down Darren's back. "About loving you? Wanting you to feel okay about loving us—me—back?" Darren nods, cheeks a little pink, more from excitement than embarrassment. "Of course, honey. Of course I did. You're—so important to us. To me." He smiles that sweet little entranced, in love smile that Darren so often sees him throw at Chris, and something in Darren's chest goes loose.

"I love you, too," he says. Those words have never really been a challenge for him, and especially not here and now when the sentiment is so easy. "I really like what we've got going here, man."

"I'm glad," Will replies, tugging his damp curls, one by one by one all along the shape of his face. "Plans for the day?"

Darren grins, tugging Will by his gorgeous hips back into the bedroom.


End file.
